A Summer of Adventure
by Samantha
Summary: This was my first fanfic; I've revised and finished it. Read and Review, por favor!
1. Part One

Author's Note: Ok, I've revised this. A lot. And I've (finally) finished it. It was my first fanfic that I posted a while ago (around Christmas, yikes!) Although it was really predictable and bad and it really stunk, I've decided to revise and write more! I mean, it was my first fanfic I ever wrote. I have certain loyalties to it, even if it is horrible! Horrible, horrible, horrible! Ugh! Well, read and review!  
  
Harry Potter absolutely despised summer vacation, the time the average 14-year-old adores. The Dursleys made his life absolutely miserable by forcing him to do their household chores and screaming at him when he 'missed a spot'. Lazy gits, he thought. You don't see them on their hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor. He was counting the days until September 1st, but the days went by slow and painfully. After an 'unfortunate' incident the previous summer involving his Aunt Marge. The Dursleys were petrified of him, and even more abusive if that was possible. He had spent a week in the cupboard for looking at Dudley 'in the wrong way'. They had only let him out because Dudley's bathroom was getting filthy and no one wanted to clean it.  
  
Imagine Harry's fear when Uncle Vernon came home one day in the middle of July and informed his family that they had been invited to stay on a vacation with a major client's family who had just moved to England from America. Harry had been scrubbing the kitchen sink while Vernon informed Petunia of the news.  
  
"Oh Petunia, it's a large house, it used to be a inn, and it's North of Liverpool on a lake." Vernon told his wife excitedly.  
  
"Really Vernon!" she squeaked. "That sounds marvelous!"  
  
"And hopefully, if I play my cards right," Vernon puffed out his chest. "I might be able to get a rather large, profitable deal."   
  
"Oh, Vernon!"  
  
"Let's see, they have three girls, one's off at college, we won't meet her, one's about five and the other one is about Dudley's age…" he stopped suddenly and glared at Harry. "What can we do with him?" he growled, ignoring the fact that Harry was still in the room.  
  
Aunt Petunia looked worried. "Well, we can't take him, remember what he did to Marge. Who knows what he'll do to those people. We might not be as lucky as we were before."  
  
"I'll be good," Harry piped up.  
  
They ignored him. "How about Ms. Figg?" Uncle Vernon suggested.  
  
"Are you joking? For a month? She'd jump out of her window before she did that!"  
  
"Yvonne?"  
  
"Gone to Hawaii."  
  
"God, that women is always on vacation! Does she not work? Ugh, I guess we could leave him in the cupboard."  
  
"NO! What would he do to my house!" Aunt Petunia screamed.  
  
Uncle Vernon glanced at Harry. "If you do anything funny while we're there you will find yourself on the next train to Tibet and I don't care what happens to you there. I don't give if they eat your eyeballs as meals and brains for desert. Understand? You will not make a fool of me and ruin this deal for me!"  
  
"Clearly," Harry said.  
  
"Oh, Vernon, are you sure he won't do anything?"  
  
"If he does, I'll beat his brains out. Do you get that?" Vernon took one step towards Harry.  
  
"I'll be good," Harry said cheerfully.  
  
"I guess that's settled. Well, everyone, pack your things! I'll go make the train reservations now!" Vernon announced.  
  
***  
  
Five days later Harry found himself at Kings Cross, waiting for, he realized, his first ever muggle train. He almost had to stop himself from walking right up to platform 9¾ and walking through the barrier. I wish it was time for that, Harry thought. Actually, in reality, he was a bit excited about the aspect of this vacation. Harry had never been on a real vacation, not counting that one trip to the zoo for Dudley's birthday. Other than that, he had barely been outside of the house and its garden.   
  
They boarded the train minutes after arriving at the station; the Dursleys where running late. The train smelled musty and of antique perfume, a bit like Professor Trewlany's classroom. The Dursleys chose the seats close to the front. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia shared row; Dudley was so large he took up the entire row himself. Harry took a seat behind them next to a bald, snoring man. The man talked in his sleep, saying things like 'gotta make it in time' and 'hurry up, Bessie!' The man also started shouting out marriage proposals between snores. Harry scooted farther away from the man; he certainly hoped the man wasn't talking to HIM.  
  
The ride was hardly smooth. The bouncing up and down made Harry nauseated and his neighbor's falling down on him every time they turned a corner did not help him either. It was not a fun trip. He longed for the comfortable, pleasant train ride that took him to Hogwarts. When the train finally stopped and the passengers got off at Liverpool, Harry had never been so relieved. He practically ran off the train and would have kissed the ground if the station hadn't been so crowded. It would've scared the Dursley's, he thought with a grin. They'd think I've taken up a new strange power and would be afraid to step on the ground.  
  
"Vernon!" shouted a tall, thin man with a thick head of dirty blonde hair. He wore glasses, but they didn't hide his bright blue eyes. He spoke with a lovely American accent that Harry had only heard in the movies that Dudley had. The two men shook hands.  
  
"I would like to introduce Daniel Springs. Daniel, this is my wife Petunia, my son Dudley…and my nephew Harry," Uncle Vernon added quickly.   
  
"Pleased to meet you," Mr. Springs said. He shook everyone's hand, even Harry's. Harry liked him at once; he seemed very pleasant. Mr. Spring's accent made every little thing sound exotic.  
  
***  
  
The car ride to the Spring's was only about five minutes. Harry was very glad; he wanted to stand and stretch properly. When they arrived a women and three girls came out of the house, which did resemble a lodge. Mr. Springs smiled at them as he parked the car in the driveway.  
  
"May I present my wife Rebecca" he said. Mrs. Springs was a short, pretty, and thin women, with dark curly brown hair and brown eyes.  
  
"Daddy!" a little girl, about five with curly bond hair and bright blue eyes that resembled her father's, yelled, throwing herself around his waist.  
  
"This little munchkin is Anneliese," Mr. Springs said fondly. Anneliese reminded him of Shirley Temple, and American child star of the 1930's. Dudley's favorite movie was Heidi, Harry remembered with a smirk. "And this is my daughter, Samantha" he said pointing to the second girl. Samantha was about fourteen, Harry's age, and was quite pretty. She had honey blond wavy hair and light gray eyes. She smiled at Harry in such a warm, friendly way he couldn't help but to smile back. "Ladies, these are the Dursleys, Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley, and their nephew Harry,"  
  
"Does Harry have a last name?" Samantha inquired.  
  
"Potter," he told her. Samantha's eyes widened and she dropped the suitcase she was carrying in on Uncle Vernon's foot.  
  
"I'm so sorry Mr. Dursley!" she exclaimed. Her eyes had not left Harry; she was looking at him with a new found curiosity.   
  
"It's all right," he said, eyeing Harry suspiciously, as if Harry had done that. You jerk, Harry thought. As if I would do that. Samantha's the only chance I have this summer at a friend. Harry remembered Hermione and Ron, and felt a pang in his stomach. He hoped that they both had gotten his letter saying that he was going, and that Ron had agreed to watch Hedwig for him.  
  
After they got inside, Samantha, Anneliese, and Mrs. Springs helped them to their rooms. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia took the room closest to the stairs. Dudley took the room next to them. Harry started to go into the next room, but Samantha stopped him.  
  
"My cousin is coming to stay with us in about a week and that's her room, so…I'm sorry," she apologized.  
  
"It's OK. Is your cousin American?" he asked.  
  
"No, she's British. She lives in London."  
  
"Where did you live in the United States?" Harry asked.  
  
"New York City," she sighed.  
  
"Do you miss it?" Harry asked.  
  
"Incredibly," she sighed again. She looked at him curiously.   
  
"What's that on your forehead?" she asked. Harry lifted his bangs.  
  
"It's a scar. I got it when I was really little," he replied. Her eyes widened again as almost in shock and Harry worried that she was going to drop something again. "Are you all right?' Harry inquired, concerned.  
  
"Yes, yes, I'm fine perfectly fine," she answered quickly.  
  
That night they ate dinner in the large dining hall. Mr. Springs had made crab au gratin, which turned out to be a very good dish, in Harry's opinion. "Where do you go to school, Dudley and Harry?" Mrs. Springs asked.  
  
"I go to Smeltings," Dudley said smugly.  
  
"I go to…" Harry was interrupted.  
  
"Harry goes to St. Brutus's Institute for the Incurable Criminal Boys," Uncle Vernon replied. Harry felt his whole face go red in embarrassment. Why did he have to tell them that? Why couldn't he just tell them that he went to a boarding school in Scotland and spare his reputation? Because they're jerks. Harry fought back a few tears. They're jerks who don't deserve this food, this oxygen they're breathing. I hate them all. Mrs. And Mr. Springs exchanged looks; making Harry feel more embarrassed because they now were most likely worried about their jewelry being stolen. Samantha gave Uncle Vernon a mean, cold glare that made Harry feel much better.  
  
***  
  
A week went by very quickly. Samantha soon became Harry's friend, although she was a bit crazy. When they were on the lake canoeing she threw the oars overboard "just to get the feeling of helplessness." She yelled freely at her parents, she climbed to the roof for no reason what so ever, and argued with Uncle Vernon with out even flinching. She was a daredevil, parasailing, wind-surfing, and doing jumps while water skiing. It was very obvious that Dudley had a bit of a crush on Samantha; he was always following her around and telling her how nice she looked or if he could get her anything. She was very polite, of course, but it was very apparent how she felt about him. She intensely disliked the Dursleys in general. "They're just so proper and normal," she said, disgusted. "I mean, normal's ok, but it's no fun!" Harry laughed and agreed with her; being normal was no fun. While he was 'normal', before Hogwarts, Harry had had the ten worst years of his life.  
  
***   
  
*Harry was dreaming. It's always weird when you subconsciously know your dreaming while you are so, but it never registers in subtext of the dream. Harry knew he was dreaming, because he had never, ever been in a place like this. He was in a small room with one door that was behind him. It shut and locked as soon as he walked through it. The room had livid sea green walls, and a psychedelic orange color painted on both the ceiling and floor. He could sense that Ron and Hermione were nearby, but he couldn't see them. He could only hear laughter, Voldemort's laughter. The evil cackle grew louder and louder until Harry was forced to cover his ears. His scar throbbed, and green light blinded him. He saw a body in the corner of the room, charred beyond recognition. Harry tried to move towards it, but he was glued in his spot. He felt himself get very hot, and heard two screams, both of whom he recognized but couldn't but his finger on. Everything was going black.*  
  
"Wake up Harry!" he hears Samantha's voice call out in the morning. He opened his eyes to see a fully dressed Samantha leaning over him.  
  
"Sam, what is it?" he asked.  
  
"My dad is taking me to the train station to pick up my cousin," she said. "Would you like to come?"  
  
"Of course!" he said excitedly. As he was getting dressed he thought about his dream. He had had it all week now, but the colors where brighter than they had been before last night. He shrugged it off and ran downstairs.  
  
"Where do you think you're going?" asked Uncle Vernon rudely.  
  
"With the Springs to pick up their cousin," he answered.  
  
"If you don't mind Vernon," Mr. Springs said. Uncle Vernon shook his head but he gave Harry a stare of pure hate. Harry just smiled sweetly and turned around to leave.  
  
***  
  
The train station was very crowded. "What does your cousin look like?" he asked. It was getting very hard to see anyone in this mob. He was frightened about losing Sam and Mr. Springs and then having to find his way back.  
  
"She's about my height, she's our age, she has brown hair, brown eyes…" she trailed off. "Well I can't see anything, I'm too short." She stood up on a bench. "Much better. There she is! There she is! There she is!" She shouted, jumping up and down, then falling of the bench.  
  
Harry laughed. "You ok?"  
  
"She sees me! She's coming over here!" Samantha cried, ignoring him. She ran over and hugged her cousin. Harry rubbed his glasses. Were his eyes playing tricks on him?  
  
"Harry?" the cousin asked in disbelief.  
  
"Hermione?" he whispered.  
  
Hermione smiled and gave him a hug. "Oh it's so great to see you!" She paused. "But what are you doing here? How do you know Sam?"  
  
"The Springs are clients of the Dursleys and we're staying with them," he said, still in shock. "You guys are cousins?"  
  
"Yep, we are. You know, I should have put you two together, but I guess I'm just too stupid!" Sam laughed. "I knew that Hermione went to Hogwarts, and that you went there too, but I didn't know what houses you guys are in or anything. I mean, Hermione's probably in all the house with all the nerds.."  
  
"Hey!"   
  
"And Harry's where are the heroes are!" Sam concluded. "What are you guys in anyhow?"  
  
"Gryffindor," they said in unison.  
  
"Sam, are you a …" Harry began to ask.  
  
"A witch? You betcha. I'd have thought you'd have figured that out by now, the way I freaked when I finally met the famous Harry Potter. The last thing I would have purposely done was drop a suitcase on your uncle's foot," she smiled. "Last thing you want to do in the world is piss Vernon Dursley off, right Harry?"  
  
"Right on," Harry laughed.  
  
***   
  
When they finally got to the house, it was very, very late. They had been stuck in traffic for hours. The normally thirty minute ride had taken six times that long. They had finally stopped at a fast food restaurant because Hermione had been getting hungry. "Get to bed," Mr. Springs ordered everyone once they arrived home. Harry went to sleep quickly, as soon as his head hit the pillow.   
  
He had his dream again. It was exactly the same as the last night's except that he could see the body with more detail. He could tell that it was a girl, due to it's long hair. He recognized the face of the body, but he couldn't put his finger on it. The heat was more intense, the screams were louder, and his scar throbbed more than ever. Confused and scared, Harry woke with a start. He looked at his clock. It was around two o'clock when Harry heard a knock on his door.  
  
"Harry," came Hermione's voice. "I can't sleep. I… I had a bad dream. Oh, that sounded like Anneliese, a five year old." She laughed. "I mean, I haven't had nightmares in years…" she paused. "What are you doing up?"  
  
He smiled. "I can't sleep either." She walked in and sat down on the foot of his bed. Harry turned a lamp on. Suddenly a loud snorting noise came from two rooms down.  
  
"What was that?" asked Hermione, flinching.  
  
"Dudley," he answered.  
  
"I guess I get to meet him in the morning. I've heard so many wonderful things about him." She smiled.  
  
"Yeah," Harry said.  
  
"Do you mind if I sit here, for just a minute. I'm to lazy to go back to my room now." Hermione asked.  
  
"No, course not." He suspected she was scared, but he didn't want to embarrass her. Harry started to read, and when he looked up again, he saw Hermione fast asleep. He smiled, put down his book, and carried Hermione to her bed. Actually, he tried to carry her. "You are heavy!" he mumbled. "Or else I'm very weak," he thought, which was probably true. He finally stirred a bit so she could walk with his assistance. As soon as she laid down, she was asleep again. He pulled the blanket over her, to keep her warm. For the middle of summer, it was very chilly in the lake side lodge. He took one last glance at his friend. He had never seen her like this, so quiet and sweet. She didn't look at all like the know-it-all Harry knew so well. He wished her sweet dreams and left.  
  
***  
  
That morning he felt groggy and sleepy; even after going back to his own room, he didn't sleep. By the time he reached downstairs, everyone was already down, eating their breakfast of French toast and sausage. He sat down in a chair between Hermione and Samantha.   
  
"What do your parents do for a living, Hermione?" asked Aunt Petunia.  
  
"They're both dentists," she said.  
  
"After breakfast, why don't you, Hermione, Dudley, and Harry go down to the lake, and maybe picnic?" Mrs. Springs suggested to Sam.  
  
"I want to go to," insisted Anneliese. She put her hands on her hips impatiently.  
  
"Now, now, dear, you must give the big kids a chance to be alone," said Mr. Springs. "Daddy will play with you, all right?"  
  
"Ok!" Anneliese said, picnic forgotten. "Let's color!"  
  
Mr. Springs laughed. "What ever you want, honey."  
  
"I have Little Mermaid coloring books!" she cried. "And I have my "Littlest Witch" coloring book too!" Harry noticed that the Dursley's cringed at the word 'witch'. Haha, he thought. Little do you know, you're in the room with two of them. He glanced at Anneliese. Maybe three, if she proves to be magic.  
  
***  
  
After breakfast the four of them headed down to the lake. Dudley was telling Samantha about Smeltings; bragging about things that Harry was sure that he made up just to impress her. Harry wished more that anything that Dudley would just disappear; he wanted to talk to the girls alone about some 'things'.  
  
"Ugh." Hermione said. "I'm still hungry."  
  
Harry chuckled. "You hardly ate your breakfast, no wonder."  
  
Hermione shrugged. "I hate sausage, and I'm not too fond of French toast."  
  
"Weird," Harry joked. She grinned at him and shoved his shoulder.  
  
"I am hungry," she repeated.  
  
"Dudley dear, would you mind walking back and getting us a snack?" Sam asked sweetly, flashing him a warm, almost seducing smile. She was the one person Dudley would do anything for.  
  
"OK," he said joyfully, and turned back. Harry detected a slight skip in his walk.  
  
"He's sweet on you," Hermione laughed.  
  
"You think I haven't noticed?" Samantha groaned.  
  
"Well, it's nice having a personal servant, don't you think?" Harry asked.  
  
"Rather have peace, but you have to deal with what you get," Sam answered.  
  
"Sam, if you're a witch, where did you go to school last year?" Harry asked.  
  
"Whoa, that was random!" Sam shouted.  
  
"Sorry, it just popped into my head."  
  
Samantha smiled. "I attended the Independence Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry," she answered. "Guess what?"  
  
"What?" Harry and Hermione asked simultaneously.  
  
"Mom doesn't want me to go across seas for boarding school, so for next year I've been accepted into Hogwarts, like you and Hermione."  
  
"Really! That's great!" exclaimed Harry.  
  
"Thanks. You know, I was at the school last year on day visiting, you know, just checking it out. Making sure there were no rats or anything."  
  
"Hogwarts doesn't have rats!" cried Hermione.  
  
"Unless you're counting animage ex-Voldemort servants posing as pets," Harry added. "Other than that, no."  
  
Sam looked at him as if he were nuts. "Anyway, I saw you," she pointed to Harry, "with a tall red-haired boy. What's his name again?" Sam asked.  
  
"Ron," Hermione answered. Then she turned and whispered to Harry. "She found him very handsome." Harry laughed.  
  
"Hey!" Sam cried. "Well, he was." She sighed. "I guess I have a soft spot for freckles. My one weakness."  
  
"Other than your one for lacking common sense?" Hermione joked.  
  
"Hey!" Sam said again, turning to smack Hermione upside the head. "I thought we were going to be on the same side this summer. You know, me, you, and Harry against Dudley."  
  
"Sorry," Hermione apologized. "I just couldn't help myself. It was to tempting."  
  
"Tempting my ass," Samantha muttered.  
  
Dudley appeared again with snacks so they couldn't continue their conversation about Hogwarts and Ron. "While I was inside, Samantha, I heard your mum talking about a party tonight," Dudley commented while biting into a king-sized twinkie.  
  
"Oh right! I completely forgot! How could I have been so stupid!" Samantha exclaimed, hitting her forehead.  
  
"Well…" Hermione began, smiling.  
  
"Oh shut up. You all are invited, of course, it's mainly a 'Hi, we're your new neighbors' party. It's a bit fancy, so I hope you have something to wear." Sam said.  
  
"Yeah," Harry and Dudley said in unison, then glared at each other.  
  
"I don't," Hermione admitted. "I packed for water skiing and wind-surfing, not going to a dinner party."  
  
"Well, you can borrow something of mine," Samantha suggested. "I have enough dresses, and if none of mine fit, you can go into Gwen's closet." She eyed Hermione with a smile. "I…"   
  
"Don't even start," Hermione said. "Believe me, it won't be funny."  
  
"Shut up!" Sam laughed. "I am too funny!"  
  
"Actually, I do know something about you that is quite funny. Harry, do you know…" Hermione began.  
  
Samantha clamped her hand over Hermione's mouth. "You wouldn't dare," she hissed in Hermione's ear, who was turning red from laughter. Samantha turned to Harry. "It's nothing, absolutely nothing. Please excuse us." She dragged Hermione away.  
  
Harry watched them leave, laughing. They were so close, it was more like they were sisters, not cousins. He turned to Dudley, his cousin. Just then Dudley burped, loudly. Harry turned back to gaze at Hermione and Samantha as he laid down on the grass. I'm jealous, he thought. I want a brother, or someone's who close to me. They're so lucky. Harry sighed. That's all I've ever wanted, companionship. While I have friends at Hogwarts, it's not the same as having brothers and sisters of my own.   
  
What would it have been like if mom and dad hadn't been killed that night? Would I still be an only child, or would I have a little brother or sister? I miss my parents so, even though I don't remember them. I guess I just feel like I missed out on something. Hermione has parents. Samantha has parents AND a sister. As for Ron's family, I'd die to trade places with him, although he hates it for some unknown reason. Harry smiled. I'll probably never understand.  
  
"Are you going to eat that?" Dudley asked, pointing to Harry's unopened candy bar.  
  
"Knock yourself out," Harry muttered and threw the candy bar at his cousin. As Dudley began chewing on the chocolate, he let out a humongous burp. Harry rolled his eyes. I need companionship other than Dudley Dursley.  
  
  
A/N: It's finished in part two and three; It's too long to upload the entire thing. God, my computer is screwed up!  
  
Disclaimer: It'll be in the next part. I'm so lazy today!   
  



	2. Part Two

A/N: The middle part. Please read, I hope I'm getting better (although I doubt it). I'm in such a self-hating mood; can't you tell?  
  
As Harry sat in his room, getting ready for the party, he could hear the girls arguing about dresses in the next room, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia gushing about how wonderful Dudley looked, and the Springs rushing around, making last minute preparations. He sighed and laid back on his bed. He heard a knock at his door. It was most likely Hermione or Samantha; he didn't know why anyone else would be calling on him. "Come in" he called. "It's not locked."   
  
To his surprise, Anneliese entered. She looked absolutely adorable in her baby blue dress that matched her perfectly eyes. Her golden hair sat in perfect shoulder-length ringlets. He chuckled and sat up when he saw her. Little Shirley Temple. Dudley will get a kick out of this. "You look great," he said.  
  
"Thanks," she answered and sat herself in his lap. "You look hot," Harry laughed. "What?" she cried. "Sam and Gwennie say that all the time."  
  
"Who's Gwennie?"  
  
"My biggest sister Gwynevieve. She's nineteen. She's still in New York. She goes to Columbia University," Anneliese informed him proudly.  
  
"Do you miss New York?" Harry asked.  
  
"Sometimes," she said. She settled against Harry, and he hugged her. "Sometimes. I miss the park and meeting my friends their to roller skate." She lifted her dress up so Harry could see her knee. "See that?" she pointed to a large red scar on her knee.  
  
"Ouch," Harry said. "How'd you do that?"  
  
Anneliese smiled. "I was skating one day. There was a duck on the path and I tried to miss it. I couldn't stop, so I fell on my knees."  
  
Harry tugged on one of her curls. "You should wear knee pads."  
  
She laughed. "I do, now!"  
  
"What do you not miss about New York?"  
  
"The mean guys."  
  
"What mean guys?"  
  
Anneliese frowned. "The mean guys who would pick on Samantha."  
  
"Why would they do that?"  
  
"Because she was a witch," she told him. "They found out, and made fun of her."  
  
"They are mean guys," Harry said.  
  
"Yep. Are you a boy witch?" she asked.  
  
"You mean a wizard?"  
  
"Yeah, that's it! Are you?" she inquired.  
  
"Yes, I am."  
  
Anneliese smiled. "Can you do magic?"  
  
"Yes," Harry answered.  
  
"I want to be a witch," she announced. "Gwennie's not one, but Samantha and Hermione are. I want to go to Hogwarts like you and Hermie , not Independence. Samantha said that that school sucked."  
  
Harry laughed. "I wouldn't know."  
  
"Do you like being a wizard?"  
  
"Very much," Harry told her.  
  
"I want to be a witch. I need a wand, don't I?" Anneliese asked.  
  
"To do magic, yes."  
  
She looked at his face and studied him. "Where are your parents?"  
  
Harry looked down at his feet. "They died when I was a baby."  
  
"Have you lived with Mr. and Mrs. Dursley since?" she asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Anneliese gave him a hug. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Harry was amazed at how mature and old she sounded for a little five year old.  
  
"It's ok," he said. "It happened a long time ago and I don't really remember my parents."  
  
"My aunt died last year," Anneliese told him. "My daddy's sister. She had cancer."  
  
"I'm sorry," Harry said.  
  
Anneliese nodded. "It's ok. I didn't know her very well, but I know that she was sick for a long time."   
  
"Oh," he said, unsure of what to say. At that moment, the doorbell rang, shattering Harry's thoughts.  
  
"Let's go Harry!" she cried, jumping of his lap and grabbing his wrist, "The guests are arriving! We have to be there when the guests arrive! We have to party!"  
  
***  
  
Indeed, the guests were really arriving. Lots of them. Soon the whole downstairs was packed with people, big and small, short and tall. Harry guessed that half of Liverpool was there. He looked around for Sam and Hermione, but soon gave up such hope. He felt like he was on an isolated lagoon, all my himself. He saw Dudley, but he wasn't really looking for him.  
  
"Harry! Over here!" he heard Samantha call. He spun around and was face to face with a dressed-up Samantha Springs. She looked really pretty in a short, navy blue velvet dress. Her wavy, honey blonde hair was down, her blue eyes were blazing, and she looked remarkably like Anneliese. Side by side, it would be a simple matter of declaring them siblings.  
  
"Where's Hermione?' he asked.  
  
"I don't know; I lost her. She was right here, now she's gone…" She trailed off looking. "Well, she was right here."  
  
"I guess she just walked off," Harry grinned.  
  
"I guess so," Samantha agreed.   
  
"Do you know half the people at this party?" Harry asked.  
  
Sam laughed. "Half? Try no one. This is a welcome wagon party, remember? It's a time to get to know our neighbors."  
  
"I feel sorry for you parents."  
  
"Oh, yeah. They have to go and mingle with EVERYONE; I would be dead from all the socializing," Samantha answered, still searching the room.  
  
"Do you see her?" Harry asked.  
  
"Nope. She's wearing a black dress." Sam grinned. "You should see her; I fixed her up. You wouldn't recognize that girl."  
  
Harry shrugged. "Hermione's one of my best friends; I'm sure I would."  
  
"There she is!" she shouted and pointed.  
  
Hermione was wearing a long black dress that fell to her ankles, barely revealing her shoes. Her hair had been curled and put up in a chinagon, a few uncooperative strands falling down by her face. All in all, she looked really pretty. "Hermione!" Harry stuttered. "You look great!"  
  
"Thanks," she said. "But I feel so uncomfortable! Look at these shoes." They were black sandals with a extremely thin four inch heel. "I cannot walk in these!" Harry laughed. "Can we sit down?"  
  
"Wimp," Sam teased.  
  
"I notice you're not wearing these," Hermione said. "Now who's the wimp?"  
  
"You do need to sit down; those heels are making you cranky!" Sam exclaimed. "Besides, those shoes are black, and my dress is blue. It clashes."  
  
"Clashes my ass. You just didn't want to wear them!"   
  
"Hey," Sam scolded. "Do you want me to go back upstairs and get my one's that have the six inch heels?" Hermione shook her head. "Then shut up."  
  
"Why don't we sit down," Hermione repeated.  
  
"Sure," Harry said.  
  
"You two go ahead; I have to go find my parents and Anneliese and mingle some." She grinned. "Adios, amigos!"  
  
"That girl is a bit…" Harry began.  
  
"Odd?" Hermione finished. "Tell me about it."  
  
Harry smiled. "You two seem very close."  
  
"Oh, we go to each other's house almost every summer. We're very close. She's the closest I have to a sister."  
  
"I wish I had a sibling," Harry said.  
  
Hermione smiled sadly and put a hand on his shoulder. "We really should sit down."  
  
"Lets," Harry agreed. They took a seat near a window so they could look out at the perfectly cloudless sky outside. "This is the type of night astronomy teachers live for," he joked.  
  
"It's beautiful," Hermione agreed. "Oh Harry, look!" She pointed to Sam nearby talking to Dudley.   
  
Harry grimaced. "Poor Sam."  
  
"Poor Sam indeed," Hermione agreed. "He's awful, but your aunt and uncle don't seen that bad."  
  
"They're on their best behavior. Actually, I think they're in shock that the Springs don't hate me and make me do all their chores," Harry said.  
  
"I don't think anyone but them and Malfoy hates you."  
  
"Aunt Marge," Harry pointed out. Hermione laughed.   
  
"Do they really make you do their chores?" Hermione asked, suddenly serious. A large piece of hair fell from her bun and brushed her face.  
  
"Of course. The lazy gits wouldn't dream of scrubbing the kitchen floor on their hands and knees."  
  
Hermione squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry about them. They are awful. I understand why you don't talk about them." As she spoke, the loose hair bobbed up and down, starting to annoy Harry.  
  
"Yeah. Life sucks, doesn't it?" he asked.  
  
Hermione shook her head. "Don't say that! It's just them! I mean, look at you at Hogwarts! You're so happy then. Life doesn't suck then, does it?" Her loose piece of hair fell into her across her eyes, then she tossed her head back to get it off her face.  
  
"Here," Harry said. He took Hermione's loose piece of hair and tucked it behind her ear. "It was bothering me," he said, responding to her bewildered expression. He smiled at her. "I've missed you so much."  
  
"I've missed you too, you and Ron. Life is boring without you guys," Hermione admitted. "After the day Sam visited Hogwarts, Sam asked me who he was and said he was dreamy."  
  
"You told me that."  
  
"I know, but I didn't tell you this. It's what I was about to tell you earlier and Samantha made me shut up. I gave her a picture of him- well, of me, you, and him- and she cut me and you out of the picture!" Harry laughed. "She handed it back to me and said 'I don't need this part; you can have it back.' Do you know where she keeps that picture of Ron?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "I don't know."  
  
"Under her pillow! She sleeps with it under her pillow. I do think that Sam has a bit of a crush on our favorite Weasley, wouldn't you agree?"  
  
Harry smiled. "I think she does. Lucky Ron. I wish a girl would do something stupid like that for me."  
  
Hermione snorted. "Are you kidding? Half the girls in school would sell their souls for a date with you."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Would I lie?"  
  
Harry pondered that. "No, but really?"  
  
Hermione laughed. "Yes, really." She paused. "Oh Harry, look! Sam and Dudley are dancing! Oh I feel so sorry for her!"  
  
"Me too. Do you want to dance?" Harry asked.  
  
"Me?" Hermione asked shocked. Harry nodded. Hermione pointed to her shoes. "I can't even walk in them, let alone dance in them!"   
  
"We'll just have to take care of that, won't we?" Harry joked as he leaned down and took her shoes off for her.   
  
She smiled. "Just don't step on my toes! Listen, no one is going to accuse me of being a good dancer, so if I step on your toes don't get mad." she exclaimed.   
  
"Well, I can't even dance, so you're better off than I am," Harry admitted.  
  
Hermione laughed. "I guess I am. I'll teach you."  
  
"Let's go!" He grabbed Hermione's wrist and dragged her out of her seat onto the dance floor. "Now, how do I do this?"  
  
Hermione sighed. "You put one hand right here," she gently placed his hand on her waist, "and hold my hand."  
  
"Is this really how to dance?"  
  
"Look around! Don't you see everyone else doing this?" Hermione asked.  
  
"There's not that many couples dancing," Harry said smugly.  
  
"Trust me," she whispered. "Trust me. I know what I'm doing."  
  
"Good." Harry smiled.  
  
Suddenly, Samantha came running over. "I need to talk to you guys now!" she grabbed their wrists and dragged them through the nearby French doors into the starry night outside.   
  
"What's wrong?" Harry asked.  
  
"That jerk in there, he was making, uh, inappropriate comments." She said.   
  
"Inappropriate comments?" Hermione raised her eyebrows.  
  
"Yeah! He said that if I was free after the party, we could go to his room and, what did he say? Oh yeah, 'get down to business'. What a sleaze!" Sam cried.  
  
Harry cringed. "I just thought that Dudley was stupid, not slimy."  
  
"Well, you were wrong!" Sam snapped.  
  
"What did you do?" Hermione asked.  
  
"I … uh … kinda…disarmed him, under my breath, he didn't know I did it, but he's uh…out of it…."  
  
"Sam, now they're going to blame it on me!" Harry cried.  
  
"No, they're not, I told them I tripped on my shoe and slammed him into the wall. How much trouble am I in?"  
  
"You mean with the ministry or the Dursley's?" Hermione asked.  
  
"The ministry! I can handle the Dursley's, for christsake! They don't bother me!" Sam stated.  
  
"You'll probably get a warning for using magic outside of school and in front of magic, that's about it though." Harry said.   
  
Sam frowned and groaned. "I don't want a warning," she whined.   
  
"What were you expecting Sam! You knew the rules, and you broke them!" Hermione exclaimed.  
  
"I lost it! He made me so mad!"  
  
"That's no excuse!" cried Hermione. "You should be able to control your temper! What would you have done if you had really hurt him?"  
  
"I would have celebrated," Sam said.   
  
"Hermione, don't have a cow! It was nothing big!" Harry said.  
  
"Nothing big! She could have killed your cousin!"  
  
"I wish she had."  
  
"Do you think that this is going to look good for her? Causing trouble before she even goes to Hogwarts?" Hermione yelled. She saw Harry's face turn red with anger.  
  
"Ron's right about you, you are a bossy know-it-all and I don't know why I am trying this, nothing can get through to you!"  
  
Hermione's jaw dropped open. "That was mean, Harry. That was low. It wasn't personal before; I wasn't shouting off insults at you, was I?"  
  
"Do I even have to be here for this conversation?" Sam winced. They both glared at her. "Good, because, I gotta go and, uh, milk the cow." She said running inside.  
  
"Look what you did!" Hermione yelled.   
  
"Me? What did I do?"  
  
"Oh yeah, I'm sorry, I forgot, you're the famous, perfect Harry Potter who can do no wrong."   
  
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Harry asked her. "You sound like Malfoy!"  
  
She ignored his last comment. "It means that-"  
  
Harry cut her off. "And what is this about ME being perfect? What about you? Perfect grades, perfect reputation-"  
  
"Perfect reputation! I have two detentions, thanks to you!"  
  
"Oh, two detentions, how awful! You're so goddamn perfect you're fake! You're just as fake as Malfoy!" he mocked.   
  
"Well, you are trying to get everyone's pity by telling them that your aunt and uncle make you work and beat you!" Hermione cried. "I don't see anything not fake in that!"  
  
"They actually do that," Harry whispered.   
  
"Sure," Hermione scoffed. "And I'm the Queen of England."  
  
Harry bowed to her. "Your majesty, do you see this?" he pulled his sleeve to reveal a black and blue bruise.  
  
"Did they do that?" Hermione whispered.  
  
"Well, that's them grabbing me and throwing me in the cupboard for a week for no reason what-so-ever." Harry said softly.  
  
"I'm sorry," Hermione said.  
  
"It's ok," he waved it off.  
  
"No, I'm sorry about this entire fight."  
  
Harry smiled. "Me too. I'm sorry too."   
  
"I don't think I've ever really fought with you before."  
  
"It's usually you and Ron, isn't it?" he joked.  
  
"Usually," Hermione agreed. "It's hardly me and you, or you and him."  
  
Harry shrugged. "Are you cold?"  
  
Hermione shivered in the cold wind coming from the nearby lake. "A bit."  
  
"Here," Harry said as he put his jacket around her shoulders. "Better?"  
  
"Yeah. Thanks."  
  
"We better get inside," Harry said, "and see how the Dudley/Samantha situation is working out."  
  
"I hope she really hurt him," Hermione muttered under her breath.  
  
Harry laughed. "Me too, Herm. Me too."  
  
***  
  
Dudley, unfortunately, soon regained consciousness. "Rats," Sam whispered, snapping her finger. "I really wanted him to be out of it for a few days."  
  
"All dreams don't come true," Hermione joked.  
  
Harry suddenly stilled on the word 'dreams'. What was up with his dreams? He had gotten to the point where he didn't want to go sleep; his nightmares were so terrorizing. He often had the dream where his parents were being murdered, but never before had he had the same dream so many nights in a row. His current nightmare was aloof; he only picked up bits and pieces. He remembered Voldemort's laughter, an intense heat, a charred body, screams. What did they mean? Did they have a significance other than to scare him?  
  
"Harry?" Hermione asked, interrupting his thoughts.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Are you ok?"  
  
"I'm fine," Harry lied. "Just fine."  
  
Hermione gave him a look of disbelief, but didn't say anything. "Hey, Sam, tomorrow, we're going water skiing, right?"  
  
"Right on!" Sam cried. "You guys will love water skiing! It rocks my boat!"  
  
"Huh?" Harry inquired.  
  
"Never mind. It's just really fun. I'm teaching Anneliese this summer; she's finally big enough, so I can take you as a student too, Harry."  
  
Harry turned to Hermione. "You know how?"  
  
Hermione nodded. "I've been doing it since I was nine. I'm not as good as Sam."  
  
"Got that right," Sam exclaimed. "I am the world champion water skier! Go me!" Her expression changed. "Oh, no! Tomorrow I have to go with Anneliese to her day camp presentation! It'll be all day!"  
  
Hermione patted her back. "We can water ski in the evening, can't we?"  
  
Sam cheered up. "Of course we can; why didn't I think of that?"  
  
"Because-"  
  
"Shut up Hermione!" Samantha cried. "It may be a bit harder in the evening because the waves are a bit bigger, but not too much. It'll be fun!"   
  
***   
  
That evening, around seven o'clock, Harry found himself outside in his trunks and a white T-shirt, waiting for the girls to get outside so they could go water skiing. The water was choppy, yet the breeze was almost nonexistent. He heard Hermione and Samantha coming outside, arguing as usual.  
  
"My ankles still hurt from those shoes last night," Hermione whined.  
  
"You're such a baby. You don't know what hurt is!"  
  
"I am so not a baby!"  
  
"Are too."  
  
"Am not!"  
  
"Are too!"  
  
"Am not!"  
  
"Are too!"  
  
"Am too!"  
  
"Are not!" Sam screamed.  
  
Hermione laughed. "See, even you admit it, Sam. I'm not a baby."  
  
"That was low, Herm. That was low," Sam told her.  
  
"That wasn't low; that was funny, wasn't it?" Hermione asked Harry.  
  
"Not taking sides," Harry said. "I'm Switzerland."  
  
"Let's start!" Sam stated. "Anneliese will be joining us later; she went to get ice cream with a friend."  
  
"Who's going to drive the boat?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Moi." Samantha looked at their bewildered faces. "What? I've been doing this since I was a little girl. I know how to drive a stupid boat!"  
  
"True, she has," Hermione whispered. "Are you ok?"  
  
Harry stared off to space. "Fine," he whispered. The sun was setting, and the breeze was starting up rapidly. Something is wrong, a voice in his head told him. Harry shrugged it off. "Don't we need skis to water ski?"  
  
Samantha smacked her forehead. "Of course, of course! Where is my brain?"  
  
"I'm not saying anything, I'm not saying anything," Hermione chanted.  
  
"Good girl," Sam patted Hermione on the back. "Where are the damn skis?"  
  
"You can't find them?" Harry questioned.  
  
"They're usually right here," she said, pointing to a closet in the boat port. "They're always right here."  
  
"Where could they be?" Hermione asked. "Could your parents have put them anywhere?"  
  
Sam shook her head. "Mom and Dad keep them right here. They never move them."  
  
"Could they have been stolen?" Harry asked.  
  
Samantha laughed. "Our nearest neighbors are almost a mile away, and don't you think we'd notice is someone carried off five pairs of skis? That's a bit of a load, isn't it?" She sighed. "Besides, the closet is locked. Always. The only people who have a key are me, my mom and my dad, and Hermione."  
  
"Someone could have opened it by magic," Hermione said, voicing the same thing that was running through Harry's head.  
  
Samantha shook her head. "Come on, get a clue. We three are the only wizards in miles."  
  
"Where could they have gone?" Harry said softly.  
  
"I don't know." Sam put her head in her hands. "My only guess is that mom or dad could have put them in the guest quarters."  
  
"Guest quarters?" Harry asked curiously.  
  
"Yeah, we have a small house, over there," she pointed into the distance. "Mom's changing it into her office. I can't believe that she would put it in there; she's painting it now. She wouldn't just put rusting sports equipment in there for no reason."  
  
"Small house? How big is it?"   
  
Sam shrugged. "Three rooms? There's a main room, with two bedrooms off of it. It would make a really nice clubhouse if mom hadn't claimed it first."  
  
"And if we were younger," Hermione added with a smile.  
  
"Of course, that's what I meant."  
  
"Let's go and see if the skis are in there," Harry said. "I mean, we could go out on the boat and not ski…"  
  
Samantha gasped in mock horror. "Is someone getting scared?" she joked.  
  
"No," Harry told her. He wasn't scared of the water skiing; there was some little voice telling him that something was terribly wrong, that something was going to happen.  
  
"Let's go!" Sam ordered and led the way to the guest house.  
  
"Scared?" Hermione whispered to Harry as they walked.  
  
"Not about water skiing, but something else," Harry admitted.  
  
"Me too," Hermione said softly. "Me too."  
  
  
  
Author's Note: Read the next part. That's all I really have to say.  
  
Disclaimer: I know I promised it would be in this part, but I really thought this part would be the last. Obviously, I was wrong. It's in the next part (I promise!)  
  



	3. Part Three

A/N: The last part! I appologize for the multiple parts; my computer is really screwed up and will not upload more than 20 pages at a time, and this story is 45 pages!  
  
When they reached the quarters, Samantha fumbled through her key chain for the key. "It's got to be around here somewhere," she groaned.  
  
Hermione sighed. "Hurry up." She leaned against the door, which instantly opened. "Hey, it wasn't locked!"  
  
"Score!" Samantha cried and ran inside in front of Hermione. "Come on in, guys!"  
  
Harry felt another rush of fear flow through his body, this time stronger than before. Something was wrong, he thought. Something was wrong. He ignored the feeling and stepped inside, followed by Hermione. The door shut behind them.  
  
"Shit," Hermione swore. It was the first time he had ever heard her swear, but he agreed with her. The room, it was the room from his dreams. All four walls were a livid sea-green color, and the floor and ceiling were a psychedelic orange color.  
  
"Sorry about the coloring, guys. I know it looks like puke, but my mom's a bit of a hippie," Sam explained.  
  
Harry turned to Hermione and saw her frightened expression that mirrored his own. "Let's get out of here," she whispered.  
  
"Let's," Harry agreed.   
  
They had started back towards the door when Samantha screamed. "What is it!" Hermione yelled.  
  
"My skis!" Samantha cried. "They're ruined!" she yelled, pointing to a pile of wood in the middle of the floor, which, Harry realized, had once been her water skis, all snapped and broken into several pieces.  
  
Hermione ran towards the door. "Let's get out of here!" she yelled. "Dammit!" She screamed when the door wouldn't open.   
  
Harry grabbed his wand. "Almohora!" he cried. The door didn't budge. "Shit!"  
  
"Open, open, you stupid, stupid door!" Hermione screamed. "You stupid, stupid door!" She turned to Sam. "Are there any other exists other than this one?"  
  
"Yes, but they're all locked," a voice said, coming from the corner of the room. "Are you really that anxious to leave, Miss Granger?"  
  
Hermione grabbed Harry's hand. "I want to get out of here, now," she said, her voice shaking with fear.  
  
"Don't you want to save your little friend?" the voice asked.  
  
"Little friend?" Sam questioned. "Who?"  
  
The source of the voice walked out of the shadows. "Him."  
  
"Oh my god," Hermione whispered and tightened her grip on Harry.  
  
The source of the voice was Voldemort. He was the ugliest, most terrible sight Harry had ever seen. Voldemort's face had aged with wrinkles and sported a olive green color, and his black hair was thinning. Those were the only physical characteristics of the dark wizard to register him as human. His eyes, his mouth, his body all resembled monsters that Harry had read about in muggle fairy tales. But the most frightening thing was that he was holding Ron, his wand to Ron's head. "One false move and he dies."  
  
"Holy shit," Samantha whispered.  
  
"What do you want?" Harry asked calmly.  
  
Voldemort turned to Harry. "I want you to die, Potter. I want you out of my hair, I want my revenge, I want you to die."  
  
"Kill me then," Harry said. "But let Ron go."  
  
"Deal," the evil wizard said. He shoved Ron across the room towards Harry, then muttered some words and Ron froze in place. Voldemort laughed. "You didn't say I couldn't put a body bind on him."  
  
"Asshole!" Samantha screamed.  
  
He threw a fireball at Samantha, which she ducked at the last minute, but hit her head on the floor. "Samantha!" Hermione cried and ran from Harry's grasp to her cousin. "Oh Sam, are you all right?"  
  
"I'm fine," Sam whispered. "Owww, my head hurts."  
  
"Sorry," Hermione whispered and patted her hair.  
  
"Oviata trentrosious!" Voldemort screamed, and the girls flew out of the main room into one of the bedrooms. The door shut behind them.  
  
"What are you doing?" Harry cried. "Leave them alone; you want me, not them."  
  
Voldemort muttered some words under his breath and Harry felt himself freeze in place. Goddammit, he's put me in a body bind. How stupid am I? He tried to smile as he thought of Hermione making a smart-aleck comment to that, but his body bind did not permit it. "I want you all dead," Voldemort hissed. "You are all my problems. You three are strong wizards, and you are the one thing standing between me and ruling the world."  
  
Harry said nothing; he couldn't say anything even if he wanted to. He just listened. "You awful kids have gotten in my way so many times, just like your parents. I think it's time for you to die." Voldemort pulled a lighter out of his pocket. "You're going to die. I'm quite brilliant, aren't I? They'll never guess that you were killed by the greatest wizard in the world when you die in a house fire, now will they?" He flicked the lever and a small flame was produced.  
  
"It's amazing how you'll die from this little tiny flame. This little, tiny flame will grow into a big, house consuming fire. Don't you understand, Harry? I started out as this flame, and then I turned into a big, deadly fire." Voldemort paced closer to Harry. "Then you went and threw a bucket of water over my fire, and I returned to being a flame." He laughed. "Tonight, with your death, I will continue being a fire."  
  
He leaned down and lit floor on fire. "Not very smart, making this cabin out of wood, now was it? Just remember Harry, when you die tonight, that I won. You won that battle that night, but I have won the war. Fire wins over water, doesn't it?" He smiled evilly. "I must go now, and celebrate my return to fire from flame. Enjoy your death, Potter." He snapped his fingers and was gone.  
  
Harry looked around in panic. What could he do? He couldn't move, he couldn't see, and he definitely couldn't bend down and pick up his wand which had fallen near his feet. He met Ron's eyes and sensed that his friend's panic mirrored his own. Samantha and Hermione were stuck in the bedroom, he and Ron were frozen in place, and the house around them was burning down. The realization of their hit Harry, hard. They were going to die. All four of them were going to die.  
  
"Is anyone here?" Harry heard a small voice coming from behind him. Oh, god, Anneliese! Go away; don't get killed too! He couldn't say anything.  
  
She walked up to Harry. "Hey, what's wrong? Why aren't you moving?" Go away! His mind screamed. Get away from here! Don't you see the flames?  
  
"Are you a statue?" she asked. "Or are you playing a game?" She put her hands on her hips. "Well, if you are playing a game I think it's best you continue outside, because I think this house is on fire." You think?  
  
She bent over and picked up his wand. "Oh, cool, is this your wand? It's much cooler than Sammie's!" She fingered the wand gently. "Can I try?" she asked. Not waiting for an answer, she cried "Hocus pocus!" Harry would have laughed if he could have. "Abracadabra!" She turned to Harry. "I think it's broken."  
  
Get out, get out, Harry thought. Get out of here! The fire was growing larger and larger by the second, and the smoke made it harder to breathe. "I'll make up a spell, like they do in Sabrina, the Teenage Witch." She pondered for a moment. "Hippies had a lot of groove, so let Harry wander and move?"   
  
Harry laughed, then stopped in surprise that he could laugh. He could move his fingers, his legs, everything. "How in the world?" he mumbled. That wasn't a real spell, and Anneliese wasn't a real witch, at least, yet.  
  
"I did it!" Anneliese cried. "I did it! I rule the world!" Harry gave her a quick hug and took back his wand. Harry quickly took the body bind off of Ron.  
  
"Are you ok?" Harry asked his best friend.  
  
"I'm fine. Just a little shaken up," Ron said.  
  
"Did he take you from the Burrow?"  
  
Ron nodded. "He really scared Mum. She was screaming and crying worse than I'd ever seen her."  
  
"Did he hurt you?" Harry asked, giving Ron a quick guy hug.  
  
"No, but he really scared me."  
  
A fiery beam fell to the floor. "Here, Ron, take Anneliese and get out." Harry ordered.  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"I'm going to get Hermione and Samantha."  
  
Ron looked around. "Hurry. This ceiling is about to fall, and if you're inside when it does, you're a goner."  
  
"Can't you do something magic to stop the fire?" Anneliese chirped in.  
  
"No," Harry admitted. "I don't know the charm- I wish Hermione were here instead of me."  
  
"Harry, she wouldn't know it either! We know how to stop little fires, but this is too big of magic for rising fourth years."  
  
"I know, I know."  
  
"Go!" Ron yelled at Harry as he dragged Anneliese from the burning building. Harry ran to the bedroom door that Voldemort had thrown the girls into. The door was surprisingly unlocked, so he walked inside.  
  
The smoke was so strong in the room that Harry had to drop to his knees. "Shit," he said as the smoke burned his eyes. "Hermione, Samantha, were are you," he whined, crawling along the floor. He bumped into a dresser. "Ow," he cried, rubbing his head. He turned to his left and saw two bodies, laying on the ground.  
  
"Shit," he mumbled. It was Hermione and Samantha, both unconscious. He would have to carry them out. Harry glanced up at the ceiling; Ron was right; it WAS ready to fall. He glanced at the two bodies. Flames curled around them and licked their skin. He couldn't carry both of them, and he only had time to get one of the girls out before the house would collapse. Hopefully he would have time to get both out, but he wasn't sure about it. Please, help, he prayed to no one in particular. Whoever is out there, help me.  
  
Harry carefully lifted Hermione's body and carried her out of the room. She seemed lighter than she had the other night, or perhaps he had been filled with a sort of emergency adrenaline. He ran through the main room and out the door as fast as his legs could carry him.  
  
The contrast of the burning house and the cool night hit Harry in the face like a slap. The night was tranquil, peaceful, while chaos raged inside of the fire-surrounded guest house. He laid Hermione on the cool grass a good distance from the house. "Shit," he heard Ron swear.  
  
Harry spun around to see the ceiling collapse in flames. "No," Harry whispered. "Samantha."  
  
"Where's Sammie?" Anneliese asked. "Hermione's there, but where's Sammie?"   
  
Harry opened his mouth, but no words came out. He pointed to the flame swallowed house.  
  
"No, no!" Anneliese screamed. She lunged at Harry. "Go back in there! Go get my sister!"  
  
Ron pulled Anneliese off of Harry. "He couldn't go back; there's no place without fire."  
  
"Save my sister! Save my Sammie!" the little girl hollered.  
  
"I'm sorry," Harry whispered.   
  
"I hate you!" she yelled at Harry. "I hate you! It should be you back in the house, burning up, not Samantha! I hate you!"  
  
Harry felt tears run down his cheeks. "I did all I could do."  
  
"No you didn't!" Anneliese cried. "You didn't because you didn't save her!" She turned to Ron. "Is she dead?"  
  
Ron soberly nodded his head. Anneliese started crying hysterically and periodically screaming for her charred sister. That's whose body I saw, Harry thought. It was Samantha's. It was trying to warn me… but I ignored it. God, I feel stupid. I'm awful; I killed someone. I could have saved her, but then Hermione would have died. He looked down at his unconscious best friend. It's not a fair choice, having to choose between the lives of two equally wonderful people. Having to choose which one died and which one lived. Harry really started crying. He dragged Hermione to the edge of the lake and put cold water on her face to cool her down. A hand to her forehead would lead a person to conclude that either she was in a house fire or she had a 300 degree fever.   
  
Hermione's eyes fluttered open. "Hey," she whispered.  
  
"Hey," he greeted her. A lone tear fell down his cheek and landed on her nose.  
  
"Why are you crying?" she asked. Her question brought more tears. "Is it Ron?" she questioned.  
  
"No," Harry whispered, shaking his head.  
  
"Anneliese?" Hermione asked, reaching up to wipe one of his tears that had fallen on her face. Harry shook his head. A new understanding filled Hermione. "It's Samantha, isn't it?" she inquired.  
  
Harry didn't respond, but they both knew the answer to her question. Hermione slowly sat up and wrapped her arms around her legs. Tears fell down her cheeks. "Oh, god," she mumbled. Harry put a friendly hand on her shoulder, only to have her shake him off. "Please," she whispered. "Leave me alone."  
  
Harry walked back towards the shrinking flames. Anneliese was sitting on a tree stump, watching the wood that was the house burn. Most of what was left of the small cabin was ashes, black as death ashes. He looked at the burnt down house, and saw something that made his stomach churn. He saw a corpse. It was the same one from his dream. He saw a tiny flash of gold around the body's wrist, and thought of Samantha's new gold charm bracelet. Harry peeled his eyes away from the scene; tears started pouring from his eyes. "God," he whispered. "Why? Why did you do that?" He blinked tears from his eyes. "Mom, dad, if you can hear me, take care of her, all right. She's a good kid." Harry choked back a sob. "Take care of her for me, for Hermione, for the Springs, for Anneliese. Take care of her."  
  
***  
  
The next few days went by in a blur. Not a moment was defined; they all seemed to run together: the crying, the funeral, more crying. Harry and the Dursleys were leaving the next day, as was Hermione. Harry and Ron had tried to convince the Dursleys that Harry need to go back with Ron, but they recognized Ron from when the Weasleys came and rescued Harry his second year, therefore not trusting a word Ron said. Harry had not wanted to go, but the Springs needed a time to mourn their daughter in private; they didn't need to be there. The air produced a brittle quality, easily broken or snapped. The last few days held nothing but endless rain, as if even the gods were mourning the death of Samantha Anastasia Springs.  
  
That morning, the day before their departure, Harry found Hermione watching TV in the living room. She hadn't said very much since he had told her that her cousin was dead; she let no one touch her or talk to her. Harry plopped down on the couch next to her and tried to focus on the television show, a soap opera.  
  
"Marisol, te amo," a man cried. Harry raised his eyebrows. Obviously, this show was not in English.  
  
"Te amo tambien, Jose," the woman, Marisol, said.  
  
"No puedes ir. Es muy perigroso," Jose told Marisol.  
  
"Sí, yo sabe, pero tengo que hacerlo." Marisol said very dramatically.  
  
Harry turned to Hermione. "This is in Spanish," he commented lamely.  
  
"So?"  
  
"Hermione, you can't speak Spanish!" Harry exclaimed.  
  
"So?" Harry sighed and reached over to turn the television off. "Why'd you go and do that?" Hermione demanded.  
  
"So we can talk."  
  
Hermione sighed. "There's absolutely nothing to talk about. Samantha is dead, we'll all miss her, and tomorrow we will be getting on with our lives."  
  
Harry shook his head. "This is really hurting you, isn't it?"  
  
"No, you know what's hurting me?" Hermione asked, angered.  
  
"What?"  
  
"That you won't leave me alone!"  
  
Harry looked at her. "Is that what you really want? For me to leave you alone?"  
  
"Yes! I don't know, Harry. I'm just really confused and this has all gone by really fast."  
  
"I know, I know," Harry told her.  
  
"She was so good, so wonderful, I feel so guilty-,"  
  
"Guilty?"  
  
"That I lived and she didn't," Hermione whispered.  
  
Harry shook his head. "That's not your fault, Herm."  
  
"Harry," Hermione said, "What happened? What happened that night? You never told me."  
  
Harry shut his eyes and reflected. "I came into the room were you two were."  
  
"Yes," Hermione said, urging him forward.  
  
"Hermione, it was full of smoke and it was hot. God, it was hot. I didn't know if you two would be alive by the time I got there."  
  
Hermione patted one of Harry's hands. "Go on."  
  
"I found you two. I didn't have long, because the ceiling was about to cave in, so I grabbed you and ran."  
  
Hermione bit her lip. "Why didn't you take her and run?"  
  
Harry's eyes grew wet with tears. "It was hard, Hermione. It was probably the hardest thing I've ever done. I had to choose which one of two equally wonderful people would live. I chose you."  
  
"You should have chosen her," Hermione whispered.  
  
"Don't say that!"  
  
Hermione looked at her feet. "I don't know what to say, except, well, thanks. Thank you for saving my life."  
  
Harry nodded. "I want to kill him."  
  
"You-know-who?" Hermione said.  
  
"Voldemort, Herm, Voldemort. Yes, I want to kill him. He took the life of an innocent person. I want to kill him."  
  
"I'll help," Hermione said with a smile.  
  
"I wish that bastard was never born," Harry grumbled.  
  
"What would be different if he hadn't been born?" Hermione asked. "Your parents would have been alive."  
  
"Sirius would have never been imprisoned."  
  
"Those thirteen muggles killed after the day your parents died would still be alive."  
  
"Samantha would be alive," Harry whispered.  
  
"So many families would be alive."  
  
"You wouldn't have had the experience of being petrified," Harry accounted.  
  
"You wouldn't have that scar."  
  
Harry nodded. "I wouldn't, would I? I wouldn't be famous. I'd be normal. I'd love that."  
  
Hermione paused. "I just thought of something. If he was never born, we wouldn't be friends."  
  
Harry looked at her like she was nuts. "What? How do you get that?"  
  
"Well, Quirrell was working for him, right?"  
  
"Uh, huh."  
  
"If Quirrell wasn't working for you-know-who, than Quirrell probably wouldn't have been after the Sorcerer's Stone, correct?"  
  
"Right," Harry said, still confused.  
  
"And if he wasn't after the Sorcerer's Stone, than he would have never let that troll in on Halloween."  
  
Harry caught on. "And Ron and I would have never come to save you-"  
  
"And we would still be hating each other!" Hermione exclaimed. "I think that's the only good thing that you-know-who's ever done."  
  
Harry snorted. "It certainly doesn't make up for everything else the bastard's done."  
  
Hermione shook her head. "No, it doesn't."  
  
"If it's the last thing I do, I'm going to kill him," Harry announced.  
  
"For Samantha."  
  
"For Samantha." Harry agreed. "I wish she was alive. He was such a good friend."  
  
"A perfect addition for you, me, and Ron, don't you agree?"  
  
Harry nodded. "She would have, but thanks to Voldemort, our dream team is still a trio."  
  
"We still have each other," Hermione said.  
  
"Best friends," Harry suggested, sticking his hand.  
  
"Best friends." Hermione shook his hand. A tear rolled down her cheek.  
  
"Hey, Herm, don't worry, my parents will watch over her. And all his other victims. They'll all take care of her." Harry told his friend.  
  
Hermione nodded. "You know, it's a beautiful day. Sam wouldn't have wanted for us to waste it on her sake by watching Spanish soap operas."  
  
"That was you," Harry pointed out. "Who was watching the Spanish soap opera."  
  
"Sí, yo lo miré, pero comprende todos las palabras." Hermione grinned wickedly.  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows. "I didn't know you spoke Spanish."  
  
"You learn new things every day," Hermione joked. "Sam taught it to me. She was bilingual."  
  
"She was?"  
  
"Yeah. I'll miss her," Hermione said, looking at her shoes.  
  
"We'll get him, Herm. I know we will."  
  
"We better."  
  
Harry nodded in agreement. "You know, I thought this summer was going to be boring."  
  
Hermione laughed. "It certainly didn't turn out that way, did it?"  
  
"Nope. I don't think I can have a boring time, anywhere!" Harry cried. "I'm cursed."  
  
"This summer has been full of adventure, hasn't it?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded.  
  
  
  
A/N: Ok, that was interesting! That wasn't that bad, except for the fact that it stunk! Ok, read and review, and remember that I thought of this plot a year ago. It's so bad, I know! Be kind!  
  
Disclaimer: I'm lazy, so here goes: they're all the brilliant J.K. Rowling's (two more days, guys! Two more days!) except Samantha, Anneliese, and Mr. and Mrs. Springs. They belong to me. Well, actually Samantha belongs to Heaven because I killed her off, doesn't she? Or does she still belong to me because I could bring her back to life if I wanted? I dunno; I'm confused  



End file.
